The Aftermath
by fiercewarrior
Summary: Katniss has returned to the ruins of district 12 and hasn't been able to piece her life back together. Missing Prim and Gale, Peeta appears and slowly begins to rebuild their lives together, but what is the price of freedom? and will Katniss ever confess her love to Peeta?
1. Nightmare

**A/n Hi guys, this is my first fan fiction published, a Peenis(ehe) fan fiction. It takes place after the third installment of the Hunger Games trilogy "Mockingjay", I do not own any of the characters in the story. Please leave some reviews, telling me what you think, because I'm really nervous:S thanks so much guys! ~Eli x**

I'm staring into the flames of the fireplace. The bright orange flames dance and collide, rolling over one another like an ocean of fire. Fire. Fire. Fire reminds me of Cinna, of Peeta, the 74th Hunger Games, the Capitol, Peeta, rebellion, Haymitch, Cinna, the Capitol, the continuing destruction of the Hunger Games. My heads so mashed up I feel myself wanting to claw my eyes out.

Day after day I am sat like this, by the fire on my couch. A blanket is slung half-heartedly on me and only for the daily visits of Greasy Sae to feed me and clean the house, I am almost certain I would be sat just skin and bone in a festering house. I do not move. I do not speak. I can't even think of Prim. My memories of Prim are reserved for my nightmares. They always begin as memories.

For the past few weeks it's been the same one. It starts off with me and Prim, when we were young. It's just before my father died, a happier time. We're playing by the side of the house while I sing to Prim, as she plays with a half-penny doll and I plait her hair. My mother walks by as she greets our father returning from work, kissing him on the cheek. My father bends down and picks her up, spinning her as she giggles like she's a teenager. He then drops to his knees to kiss me and Prim on our foreheads before entering the house with Mother. "Katniss- dinner is ready!" I don't go immediately, finishing off an intricate plait at the back of Prim's head. "Prim!" she shouts. Prim stands up, when another voice shouts "Primrose Everdeen." I turn to Prim and she is no longer the four year old child sat before me. She is the twelve year old girl shivering before the reaping, "Katniss, who is it?" she whispers. We enter the house to the interior of the Capitol Training Room, where I trained for the Hunger Games. Effie Trinket is stood on a podium, "Our female tribute, Primrose Everdeen!" She shouts to the adoring crowd who are all sat in rows. The scene has changed to Ceaser Flickerman's interview stage. Prim is stood in the middle now, tied to a post, crying as I near her. "Prim," I shout in agony, watching my sister writhe in pain, "Prim!" She turns to me, "Stay away from me you murderer!" and with that, my hands automatically release an arrow to her heart. I'm unaware I'm holding the Bow, and turn to President Snow behind me with puppet strings. "We agreed we wouldn't lie to each other, Miss Everdeen," he smiles, as the scent of roses and blood suffocate me. The terror mirrored on my mother's face to mine, as I look around for help. I see Peeta affected by the Tracker Jacker venom, not my Peeta but the cold and cruel Peeta which came to me in District Thirteen. He bare's his teeth, and looks Physcotic. I search the crowd for Gale, but I only see his retreating figure, never looking back. I am truly deserted now. I cry my sorrows but they all murmur "Murderer," getting louder till there so close I can feel there breaths tickling me, their beginning to smell of a mixture of blood and roses. Their faces morph into those I've witness die and killed. Rue. Cato. Thresh. Boggs. Clove. Finnick. Fox Face. Coin. Leeg 1. Snow. Prim's face stands out the brightest, screaming into my face when I awake with a start.

But these nightmares, they let me know who I really am. I am a person incapable of love. I hurt those I love the most. I am heartless. As I sit here every night reminiscing my losses, I lose the will to go on. I just want to end this pain I'm living through. The constant reminder that I am unwanted, I slip into a vacant daydream. But one night it changes, and the pattern is broken.

I'm in my usual foetal position, blanket strewn over my emotionally exhausted body. The tears are once again escaping my black lashes and rolling down my face, staining my cheeks. I hear a knock at the door, and assume its Greasy Sae calling for one reason or another. She should know by know I don't move positions and the door is unlocked at all times. The knock comes again, more forceful this time. I turn my head ninety degrees and decide to leave it. Let her think I'm asleep, I don't care anymore. I close my eyes to feign sleep when the heavy kitchen door unlocks and a gush of frost-biting wind blows a lock of my neglected brown hair, greasy from months of no attendance. The door closes again and the warmth from the fire fills the room once again, the faint smoke fumes close to my chest. I wait for Greasy Sae to do what she's come to do, for whatever reason she is here. I hear footsteps behind me, but they sound uneven. A scent of cleanliness and rose body wash wavers in the air. A deep voice clears his throat and I sit up as straight as an arrow. I whip my head around and there he is. Peeta Mellark stands before me, looking at strong and tall as ever. The ashy blonde strands of hair pushed back, and a long scar from his eyebrow to the bottom of his eye pink and puckered from a fight which ensued months ago. His sparkling blue eyes which were always filled with deep intensity now look at me in curiosity and tense. Words fail to escape his perfectly arched upper lip as his bottom lip trembles at the sight of my appearance deteriorating and my lack of boldness, which had long ago vanished.

While he scrutinizes my face, I realise I'm shivering. Am I really that cold? I can't be, I'm sat by a fire for gods sake. And I realise I'm shaking. I'm shaking because I have missed Peeta so much. My lip's begin to tremble with unspoken agony and my eyes water, my tear-stained cheeks illuminated by the glow of the embers. I must look like a ghost, with my pale skin and vacant expression. As he takes a step forward, I launch into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in the crook of his neck. His muscular arms lock round me in a cage of safety and I realise he is sniffing my hair. I scramble as I huddle close to him and he pulls me against him, refusing to let go of me. Tears escape me now, "you came back?" I croak, as I finally pull my face away from his tear-sodden shirt. He looks down at me and I realise how much he's grown. His eyes search me, "Of course I came back, and I came back for you." In this moment I don't want to ever leave him again and I suddenly push my lips into his with such force I must have took him surprise. It only takes a second for him to respond as he grasps my hair and passionately kisses me back. He pulls away and takes in my feeble stance. "You're exhausted" he says, his voice full of authority. He hesitates for a moment, and then gently picks me up and carries me upstairs in the cradle of his soft arms. The fatigue which had momentarily vanished at mine and Peeta's reunion suddenly hits me like a crashing wave, and I feel as if I'm back in the Quarter Quell arena, drowning in draining tiredness. Peeta walk's up the stairs slowly and pushes the door open slowly. I hold my breath; I haven't set foot in any other room apart from the kitchen and dining area in months.

It looks as if Greasy Sae's been around with her duster. The place is spotlessly clean. The dresser holds a mirror and a picture frame which gleam in the moonlight pouring in from the window, and the bed look soft and comfortable with the plush white pillows and heavy duvets. Peeta carries me to the bed and nudge's one of the many sheets back. I was worried the grime which had collected on

my skin after months of sitting by the fire would blemish the pure white sheets, but Peeta doesn't seem to give this a thought, and swaddled me in the thick duvet and wrapping me like a baby. He kissed my forehead as my eyes began to droop and he turned his back and made way to the door, "NO!" I said, suddenly alert, my chest breathing heavily. He turned and explored my expression with acquiring eyes, "please stay," I whisper, "don't leave me." A smile played on his lips as he shed his coat and shoes, and crawled into bed next to me, only pulling a sheet to cover him. I struggle to unwrap myself from the tangle of sheets and try to offer him half the duvet. He laughs, "thanks' sweetheart, but as much as I love you, you stink pretty nasty." I blush heavily as I laugh with him. The sounds familiar to me, but I haven't made that noise in a while. It feels nice. I snuggle down into my den of sheets and sleep comfortably the best I have in months. That is, until the nightmares start again.


	2. Fresh Start

The next morning I woke with a start. The pillows around me and the cocoon of duvets were unfamiliar to me. I was drenched with sweat from my nightmare and I found myself shaking. Slowly I unwrapped myself from the fort of covers and looked over to the figure next to me. Peeta looked like a sweet angel, innocent and pure on the white sheets, making his cream skin glow. His ashy hair was no longer slicked back but slightly ruffled and the luxurious curls felt as soft as feathers when I stroked them. He stirred slightly, and turned onto his back. His eyelids fluttered, and I guessed he was dreaming. I wanted to kiss every part of him, his eyelids, his rosy cheeks flushed from sleep, his small yet slightly crooked nose where a light scatter of freckles lay. Last of all his perfectly arched lips, which reminded me of the pink wild flowers which grew in the untouched woods in springtime.

Slipping as quietly as I could out of the room, I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door. For the first time in months, I faced a mirror. My dishevelled appearance made me flinch. I leaned forward to my reflection for a closer inspection. My cheeks, which had once been slightly tanned from the many years of hunting in District Twelve's scorching sunshine and the olive skin inherited from my father's side of the family, was now patchy and dark brown from the months of collective dust. My lips were red and swollen from endless crying and my eye's resembled Glimmers disfigured face from the 74th Hunger Games, when the Tracker Jackers attacked. My eyes were swollen to the small size of balls, red and shiny, and the whites of my eyes bloodshot. The pupils were permanently dilated with fear, wide and black.

Sighing, I turned to the huge marble shower, which I had not used for what felt like years. I selected lavender scented water, the warm shower sprayed me lightly. I began scrubbing under my finger nails and rid myself of dirt, scrubbing my skin red raw to remove any traces of grime. It felt like I was washing a whole layer of skin off, scrubbing off the emotionally damaged personality who did not have the will to do anything for months. As I scrubbed and scrubbed I felt my motivation come back, as though Peeta had finally given me the will to do something. I washed my hair thoroughly, felt the silky strands between my newly-washed nails. Emerging from the shower, I was lobster pink and shiny, the whole bathroom steamed. I wrapped a large fluffy towel around myself, and crept silently past a snoring Peeta and into the huge walk in wardrobe I'd always dreaded.

Piles upon piles of unused clothes', made of luxurious silks and swathes of satin, in vibrant colours of reds, yellows, purples, electric blues, all of the outfits I would have worn on my parade after the 74th Hunger Games victory. Turning to the lower and hidden drawers, I grabbed a pair of stretchy black trousers which clung to my skinny hips and long weedy legs and shoved a yellow vest, which hung loose. I looked in the mirror and gasped at how much weight I'd lost from stress and neglect. I turned my head, not wanting to look at my skeletal self. I braided my dark hard into a plait down my back, and slipped back into the bedroom and under the sheets next to Peeta.

I lay still for a few minutes, watching his perfectly angelic face whilst he slept. His eyes rolled under his cream eyelids, while he dreamt. The long lashes fluttering lightly, and his lips parted slightly. He mumbled, and I leant in close to what he was saying, "Katniss", he mumbled, turning his head to the right and left quickly, I leaned over even closer, "No, Katniss," his voice full of indignation. I froze- was he under the effect of the Tracker Jacker venom again? Was his memory of me still being tampered with, as he became restless in his sleep? "Peeta" I whispered, shaking him slightly. He didn't even flinch, "Peeta!" I said more desperately. Sitting up, I grabbed his hand- "please don't be Tracker Jacker dreams again, please!" I pled to myself. He stirred again, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. His eyes snapped open, the pupils growing wide. "Peeta?" I asked, unsure of his reaction. His head turned slowly to me, sizing up the situation. A flash of vengeance crossed his expression, one I remembered from our previous reunion in District 13, when Gale and the other rebels had saved him from the Capitols clutches. I backed away from the covers, scrambling out of the sheets and pressed myself against the wall, "Shit-" I breathed heavily, the last time Peeta behaved like this, he tried to kill me. Nobody was here to restrain him this time, nobody even cared enough to save me, hey, maybe they wouldn't find my body for a couple of weeks. They wouldn't even notice I was gone...

Peeta stood up, look militant and assertive. He made way to me, when another look flashed in his diamond gleaming eyes- pity, recognition, and split between two personalities- the good Peeta, who cared for everyone and had a self-assured humour, and the Capitols Peeta, who was cold and unresponsive and wanted to destroy me. "NO!" he shouted, and he slumped to the floor.

I hurried to his side, and knelt down quietly beside him. "Peeta?" I whisper, lying a gently hand on his shoulder. He flinched and grabbed my arm, turning his head menacingly. Again, when our eyes met, my dark and cold gaze meeting his blue and innocent stare, his good personality fought control of his mind. "I-I'm sorry..." he stuttered, falling against my body, which was shaking with fright. I slid my arms round him, holding his shuddering body against my heaving chest, "It's okay, Peeta, it's okay" I soothed, my voice cracking. Wow, finally, somebody more emotionally damaged than me. I felt something wet slide down my wrist, Peeta's head bent over my arm, and I lifted his head to meet mine. We were level now, his blue eyes drowning in tears. "K-Katniss, I have to go. I'm only gonna hurt you. I'm sorry-"

I shake my head. "No, Peeta-" he tries to cut me off, but I shake him, "No! I only just got you back, don't think I'm gonna lose you again!" I whisper desperately. Peeta trembled and held a tentative hand, and stroked my cheek. I softened at his touch and closed my eyes. He withdrew his hand, and tried to stand up. "I'm sorry. But the Tracker Jacker venom doesn't let me forget, Katniss. It might get worse-" he says, exasperated. I breathe deeply, and push back a strand of my coffee coloured hair. I approached him, but he backed up a few steps, wanting to put some distance between us. "Peeta, I need you. And I know damn well you need me. We'll get through this, together," I say gently, and close the space between us. Taking both of his hands in mine, I interlink our fingers in a promise. "Together?" He whispers hoarsely. I nod and reach up to kiss him gently on the lips. It was the sweetest of kisses, and I sigh, wrapping my arms around him tight. His arms go around my waste, locking us together. "I promise I won't leave you-" I say, breaking off the kiss. He stares back, and his eyes are full of promise and regret, "It won't be easy," he warns, "but I promise that as long as you need me, I will always be here for you, no matter what." My heart swells and I kiss him again.

He lets go and takes my hand. "Come on," he says, leading me down the hall, "I'll get some breakfast down you, you're gonna need it." I look at him confused, "why? What are we doing?" Peeta gives me his all-knowing smile, "oh you're gonna come back to the real world, get some fresh air. When I arrived last night I couldn't believe the progress they've made cleaning the bomb debris up. I thought we'd lend a hand, the quicker the towns rebuild, the quicker people can move back." I smile at his genuine concern for our destroyed town. When we go to the kitchen, Greasy Sae has her back to us, whistling at the stove. She must of only just arrived, and when she hears two sets of footsteps she turns around and her jaw drops in amazement. "Katniss!" she exclaims, "You're walking and talking again! Good on 'ya girl!" She grins her toothless smile, a cigar perched between her lips. She hurries over and gives me a quick hug.

She takes in Peeta, "my oh my, Mr Mellark, look at you! They fixed you up good, at the hospital, dint' they?" She cackles, pinching his flushed cheeks. "Hey Greasy," he laughs, bending down to kiss the old woman on the cheek. "Oooh a real man, Katniss I'm glad he came back, finally talked you into a shower, thank god-" She sounds her cackle again, and I roll my eyes. "Hey Greasy, I think we can take it from here, you go on and get back to your grandkids," I say. She grins, with a sparkle to her eye. "Okay now, I left some squirrel on the stove, I'm sure you can figure out a way to cook it for breakfast," she winks. "I'll let you two have your privacy." She hobbles out of the kitchen with her walking stick, whistling again. I begin to work on the squirrel while Peeta looks through my cupboards and finds some bread. Raising it to his nose, he sniffs it. I raise an eyebrow, "what the hell?" I laugh. "Checking how old it is-" he replies in innocence, "you need proper food! Carbs and meat! It's only three days old this loaf, toast half of it, that's for you." We eat our breakfast in peaceful silence.

When we finish our breakfast, I stack the plates in the sink while Peeta grabs my jacket. It's not cold outside, a light breeze swaying through tendrils of my hair which escaped my braid. Peeta shrugs on a thick coat and grabs a small cane because of his slight limp due to his prosthetic leg. I take hold of his hand and together we walk to the town square which held so many memories, tragic and joyful alike.

There's nothing. Most of the buildings have been demolished because the other buildings were destroyed beyond repair. The Hob is no longer standing there, and the town hall is all but a few dusty bricks. I suddenly remember Madge Undersee and her father Mayor Undersee. I look away from the building as tears spring to my eyes. How did Madge not escape? Her father was Mayor of district 12! She of all people should of been able to afford an escape to the Capitol, under her fathers influence. I remember how strong Madge was when she pinned the Mockingjay Pin on my dress after the reaping in my first Hunger Games. How she was truly sorry and was confident in me. She was always a true friend. My memories of Madge and the summer we spent together after the Hunger Games lead a tear to fall down my cheek, and I rub away fiercely so Peeta doesn't see. He saw anyway. Clenching my hand tighter, he raises our clasped hands and kisses my hand as we stand together, united.

A strong pungent smell of stale liquor and body odour crawls up my nose. I turn around and Haymitch is stood there, looking even more rough and dishevelled than I remember. It seems the stress of the war a couple of months ago finally took its toll, his middle aged face lined with worry and hung-over mornings. "Oh Haymitch," I sigh heavily. Peeta moves towards him and pats him on the back, "Come on, Haymitch. We'll get you cleared up," he says cheerily. I glare at Peeta, "he isn't our problem anymore." A cross of conflict flickers his face and I'm scared it's the Tracker Jacker venom again. But I see him scanning the desolate town which once held thousands of starving families, all united in trading and coming together to help keep each other alive. I remember when I was eleven again, and the simple act of kindness when Peeta through me the bread. My thoughts switch to a time when a young boy came begging at our door, and my mother gave him half a pound of cheese from Prim's goat, another time when I shared out a deer between hands fighting each other for a strip of the meat, and I shared it equally amongst my starving peers. This was our town, and I knew in that moment what Peeta meant. It was our problem; it was up to me and Peeta to rebuild this town and people.

I nod at Peeta, and link one of my arms under one of Haymitch's, while Peeta grabs the other. Haymitch blearily stares at us in his drunken state, "where we going?" he murmurs, stumbling to keep up with us as we make our way back to the only remaining houses that still stand in victors village. "We're going home, Haymitch," I say determinedly. A plan is formatting in my mind, and me and Peeta exchange a knowing glance- we're going to rebuild this town if it kills us, and help rebuild the rest of Panem's district's into free towns, with no Peace Keepers and no one to kill us if we enter the woods. We will all be free, even if it kills me.


	3. New Beginning

Over the next few weeks, Peeta and I spent hours planning on who would take what job with the other villagers who had also returned. It was agreed that the men would move the heavy rubble and the women like Greasy Sae and I would redesign new houses to accommodate people when they came here to live.

"Why we gonna build houses here? You don't think the people of District 12 will wanna return here, d'ya?" Greasy Sae questioned when we asked her and her family to help us. "Maybe not, but we should rebuild it anyway. Other people from different districts can come to live here, we shouldn't go back to living cooped up," I explained gently, looking searchingly at her whole family. Four of her strong sons and two daughters nodded at me. I noticed each was accompanied by husbands and wives, and a dozen or so kids all cooped up in one house. "We will help," said one of the wives, resting her hand on a prominent baby bump, "we could use the extra room," she said, smiling to her husband. Her husband nodded in agreement, "of course, Katniss. You helped us win the rebellion. Some of my sons and nephews are old enough to help us remove the rubble, but we'll need to recruit more than the townsmen. Are you sure nobody from the Capitol can't come and help? We could use their machines..." I let him finish, as he looks at me expectantly. "The Capitol would turn 12 into a mini remake of their city. I could call Gale, maybe he'd help, and a few more families will be arriving soon, so they can help. But no way am I asking the Capitol, it's their fault we're in this mess. We'll rebuild this city our way." There's a round of applause after I speak, as Greasy Sae shouts "she's a real leader, Katniss! We follow her and Peeta's instructions! We don't need no fancy machines, the strengths of our backs and the sweat of hard work will be enough!" a loud cheer erupts, me and Peeta joining in. So as the next few weeks follow, the men begin to remove the rubble, pushing it to one side and letting the rest of us plan the houses to eventually be built.

I call Hazelle, and ask her for Gales new number. She sounds shocked to hear from me, and is very warm on the phone, but I get the feeling she's lost respect for me as I didn't choose her son. It takes me a whole week before I can call Gale and ask him. Almost as soon as I've dialled the number, I regret the call. When he answers, I stammer into the phone breathlessly, nervous for his reaction. "G-Gale? Its Katniss. I need your help-" he cuts me off, answering in a strained voice, "now's no good Katniss. I'm sorry. Things are busy here at work." Shocked at his rejection, I continue, "what, too busy to help us rebuild the town you grew up in, Gale?" I say angrily. "I'm sorry," he replies coldly, before hanging up. "What the hell!" I yell, slamming the receiver down. Peeta walks in at that moment. "Gale said no, didn't he?" I nod mutely, fiery temper flashing in my eyes. Peeta walks over and grabs both of my hands, wrapping them around his neck as he lowers his own to clutch my waist. Sighing, I lean my head into the crook of his shoulders, sniffing the warm scent that lies there.

"He's hurting. That's why he said no. I would of, if the roles had been reversed, because I know how much it would hurt me to see you with him." He sounds bitter as he says it, and I lift my head to watch his face. I see the confusion knitting at his eyebrows again, "You regret us?" I say, in a small whisper. Peeta splutters, "of course not, you silly girl! But, when I saw you and Gale all close back in District 13, when I was brought there, I remember the jealousy that ran through my blood. I wanted to throw the soup bowl at the guys head." I laugh, but fall short. "I think I always knew, deep down, it should've been you. I thought I needed Gales fiery passion to keep me going, but when they kept me on trial, I realised I had enough of my own. I needed somebody completely opposite, who was warm and content with what he had, who said the sweetest and kindest things to me and was always looking out for others." Peeta looks down at me, again, confusion knitted in his eyebrows, "Me?" he asks wonderingly. "Yes you!" I search his face, as he tries to look for an answer, "but I'm none of those things? I nearly strangled you in District 13, I-I'm a monster!" he exclaims. "No. You aren't a monster Peeta. You're a good person, one who protects everyone. That's why I need you. Just because the Capitol did...that to you, doesn't make you a monster! Because your strong enough to fight it!" I finish. He bends his head and kisses me softly on the lips to shut me up, before I witter on some more. "Come on, they'll be waiting for us to approve the plans."

Sure enough, when we got back to the kitchen, the women were all waiting for us. "Katniss! We think we've finished the plans for the houses in the east of the village!" says Greasy Sae's granddaughter Daisy, a young girl of about 16, with dark curls that explode out of her head into a long mane down her back, deep brown eyes. She looks exactly like her mother, Luna. I smile at her, "that's great Daisy!" I say encouragingly, as her little sister Rosa appears at my side. She tugs my long shirt, "Katniss, Katniss!" she lisps, "my daddy said to tell you he's cleared most of the square up! He said they can build shops again soon!" she says in delight. Everybody's grinning at each other, and I beam at Peeta. "See, I knew we could do this!" I say. Greasy Sae and her daughter Luna talk me through the plans for the houses they've designed. Rosa climbs on her mother's lap, as Luna talks into detail about the kitchen layout, obviously enjoying the task. I note how young Luna is; maybe she's only what, 34? 35 at most. I remember my mother telling me about some of the girls marrying young and having children at 18 or 19. My mother said it was a common age to start a family, and I remember always dreading the day I would have to find somebody to do that with. I smile to myself now, knowing that my kids would never have to go through things like the Hunger Games, and the build up to it, the constant dread before the reaping that your name will be chosen. I push that to the back of my mind. I don't want to think of the Hunger Games. I can't.

That night, Peeta and I take round some food to Haymitch's. We've left him for a couple of weeks after we destroyed his supply of liquor. He was pretty angry at us and when the withdrawal symptoms began, he would start his routine throwing ornaments, and shouting the odds, and then settle on his couch eating nothing but bread. Tonight I cooked one of my mother's recipes, a hearty squirrel stew. The aromas catch in my throat and remind me so much of her, and I suddenly feel a pang of sadness. We've kept in regular touch but we haven't seen each other in six months. When we arrive at Haymitch's, he's curled on his couch asleep. "Haymitch," Peeta murmurs, "wake up, we brought you food." Haymitch stirs and opens one eye, and sits up slowly. He looks awful. He's lost weight and his stubble has now grown to an unkempt beard dishevelled and full of crumbs, the beard reaching a few centimetres past his chin. His eyes look sunken and bloodshot, and his skin a greyish colour from weeks of staying locked in like a vampire. "What the fuck do you guys want?" he replies groggily. I nudge him up to the sofa and take the foil of the bowl, "here, you look starved" I say, as Peeta goes to the kitchen to fetch him a spoon. He takes one glance at it and tries to push it away. "Nu-uh. Till you get me some liquor back, I'm on a hunger strike," he says moodily. I push the bowl into his hands and Peeta drops the spoon into the sweet smelling stew. The lure of temptation is too much, and Haymitch shovels the meat and sauce into his mouth hungrily. He's done within minutes. We sit and tell him what we've been planning, and Peeta soon takes Haymitch upstairs to shower up. While their gone, I have a clean round with a towel, swiping the dust from the picture frames absent of pictures. That's Haymitch's problem, I realise. He has nobody to take care of him. He doesn't want anyone, he always wanted to remain solitary. A thought clicks in my head, and when Peeta comes back down, I tell him my plan. "We have to get Haymitch with somebody" I explain, "he needs somebody in his life to clear all the shit for him." Peeta shakes his head, "Katniss, you know what the guys like. He hates life in general, so how could he love somebody? Besides, I don't think he's ever had a relationship, he's forty and has spent the last twenty four years since he was in the 50th Hunger Games hating everyone!" he exclaims. I look at Peeta and sigh, "but you see the good in everyone. Please Peeta, we have to help him. We can't just let him live like this, in a pigsty!" Peeta looks at me with his crystal blue eyes and kisses me lightly on the lips, "Okay, but for now let him sleep." We walk home and leave Haymitch to sleep in his bed.

When we get home, we head up to my room. I'm so tiered I just want to crawl under the covers and sleep for eternity. But as I undress, I notice in the mirror my figure and face isn't as gaunt as it was a few weeks ago. Ever since Peeta arrived home, I've been eating more, as he piles my plate high. I take in my stomach, fuller and more toned from the constant walking from destroyed sight to destroyed sight. My cream breasts are bigger and look rounder, and I take in the curve as they reach for my neck. I scan my bottom half and my curved hips are no longer jutting bones with sticks attached for legs, but round and curved, with two shapely legs. Pleased with my appearance, I grin as I pull on a simple vest top over my naked torso. I turn around and notice Peeta staring at me in admiration. "What?" I smile, looking at his face taking in my body. I notice an excited gleam in his eye, but he quickly turns away. "N-Nothing," he manages to stammer out, and clears his throat loudly. I realise this is probably the only time Peeta's seen me naked, and I laugh at his awkward behaviour. I turn as I routinely do as he undresses, but subconsciously watch him in the mirror. I watch him peeling off his navy jumper to reveal a hard stomach, light shadows of muscles glinting in the light from my lamp. He pulls his pants off and as he turns around to reach under the drawer for his pyjama pants, I look at his toned muscular back, which looks as smooth as satin. I watch his curved butt and sigh. He pulls on his pants and looks at me. "What?" he asks, mimicking my tone from before. As he climbs into bed, I clamber beside him on top of the cover. I kiss his lips quickly before he can question my intentions, and he leans into the kiss hungrily, "what brought this on?" he questions though kisses, and I lower my head to the dip of his neck to kiss his Adams Apple.

"No reason," I whisper. I continue to kiss him and make way to push his pants down, a burning desire rising through my body as I realise the temptation to rip our clothes off and spend the night making love. He must realise what I'm doing and he stops, and pushes me back. Holding my waist as I sit on his lap, he laughs, "there's no rush, Katniss" he says quietly. "Please Peeta," I beg him. He shakes his head and pulls me down from his lap and throws half the cover over me. I nestle into his warm body, pressing myself into the sweet smell of his chest. "I respect you too much. I want it to be special," he says, kissing my forehead lightly. "Okay," I mumble, "I'm sorry, I just got carried away." Peeta laughs, "It's okay beautiful, " he whispers in my ear, and kisses me again on the forehead, "we have a busy few weeks ahead. Get some sleep," I nuzzle closer and kick a leg out of the covers, "Night Night" I say, tempted to kiss him passionately again but refraining so. I let him turn the light off and imagine what would of happend if he had let me carry on and let us make love. I realise I was stupid, and put the situation down to hormones. Sleep envelopes me, and I find myself in a dreamless sleep.


	4. Feeling Wanted

Over the next few weeks, construction work began on the houses we designed. In the east of the town, the structures of the houses were up, and to the west of us we'd already laid the foundations out for them. The men had done such a good job, using their muscles from lugging heaps of coal by carrying the bricks and laying them precisely, wanting to make a good job. Not once did they complain, when the weather grew awful for a whole week, rain lashing down and thunder deafening our ears, it didn't dampen their spirits, they were determined to finish the houses so families could move here. Peeta helped as much as he could, although his prosthetic leg deprived him of most of the heavy work.

"It's not fair," he complained one late afternoon as Wyatt, the chief builder we had elected, had sent him home when the work got to tough for him. "Peeta, you need to be careful, okay, your leg could get even more damaged," I soothed, flitting round the kitchen by busying myself cooking hearty stews for us and the various neighbours and workmen I had taken to feeding. I glanced over at Peeta and watched him for a minute, taking in his reaction. He sat glaring into the fire, his deep eyes glistening with un-shed tears and his eyebrows knitted together menacingly, as he bit his full bottomed sugar-pink lip, forcing himself not to explode in rage. I crossed the room and carefully sat on his lap, enveloping him in a caressing hug. He grabbed my waist, pulling me closer. He began to speak, his voice cracking, "You have no idea, Katniss. You don't understand what its like, okay? People see you as a strong, independent woman. You are the Mockingjay. You led the defeat of Snow, and Coin! But...when people see me, they see me as weak," he turned his head to gaze into my eyes, "No Peeta, that's not true-" I began, but he cut me off, "No, it is. They see me like I'm an emotional wreck, after appearing in the arena, I was injured and I had to rely on you. People must think I can't do anything for myself. And this- thing- this fucking leg! You have no idea how imperfect it makes me, because every day I wake up and I'm scared you'll find somebody with two normal legs, not somebody damaged like me, with a prosthetic leg, somebody who can walk without a stick, and can run free, somebody strong, like Gale was! Because I'm not like that!" he finished a single tear escaping. He turned his head, not wanting me to see him cry.

I snuggled closer to him, breathing in his musky scent and wrapping my arms around him. Soothingly, I kiss the top of his head. "Peeta," I whisper, and he glances up to meet my gaze, "you're perfect for me. I don't want somebody like that; I don't need anybody like that! I certainly don't want somebody like Gale, okay? Because you're everything I want, need even! You are the kindest, gentlest person I have ever known, and you have a way of seeing beauty in things others can't. And that's what makes you perfect, okay? You're as strong as anybody, maybe even stronger. Together we survived two of the Hunger Games arena's, and you even stayed strong when they-" I cleared my throat, as I approached the subject I found hard to talk about, "-when they tortured you." He gave me a small smile, "I'm not strong from that, remember? I'm like a freaking physco, I mean; I don't even know what's real and what's not! I'm scared one day I'll slip back into that persona and really hurt you." I shook my head, "we'll get through that together! You haven't had an attack since last Monday! I mean, five whole days, there becoming less frequent now, and I'm so proud of you!" I finished, as I leant forward to lean my forehead on his. I closed my eyes, remembering his last attack.

I remember it clearly. It hadn't been as bad as the others. Although I'd still been shit scared for my life. Peeta lost control over a simple remark Haymitch had made, as he talked about District Thirteen. Peeta had spun round so menacingly, the pure hate had turned his baby blue eyes black and he looked livid. He began smashing glasses and plates in his way, as he raged about how the people of District Thirteen deserved to be punished, as he put it, "for defying and disobeying the beloved Capitol." He'd shuddered in the ground and turned on me, and I remember how I'd slid in a corner, grabbing a plate to fend off his attack. As he'd come forward, he'd slipped back into himself- the normal Peeta- and attempted to stop his evil alter-ego from trying to harm me. The battle between his two personalities had been cruel, after that, Haymitch had grabbed the nearest empty liquor bottle and smashed it over his head, which had knocked him unconscious. When he woke, he was normal.

Snapping back to reality, I opened my eyes. Peeta's head was resting against my forehead, his own eyes closed as if he were trying to remember the last Tracker Jacker attack. I watched his creamy smooth eyelids flittering, as the eyes behind them searched his mind for the memory. His lips were partly opened; occasionally he bit his bottom lip in concentration, which I found increasingly sexy. Without another thought, I kissed his perfect bow lips to snap him out of his trance. For a second, he didn't respond, but eventually he returned the kiss with much more force. I unhooked my legs from their crossed position and sat on his lap, straddling him. His tongue flicked into my warm mouth and I grabbed his golden locks, pulling him closer. We exchanged lip nibbling and I pushed my tongue deeper into his mouth, opening the kiss more.

As the kiss became more intense, I pushed his jumper up slightly, feeling the smooth skin of his back and sides, and I moved my mouth to his neck, showering them with kisses and light bites. He buried his face in my neck, "Katniss?" he whispered, a light moan in his voice. I had no idea what had come over me, but seeing Peeta vulnerable had really turned me on. Peeta's hands moved to the lower part of my back, finally resting between the top of my butt and the small of my back, and he began to kiss my ear lobe softly, nibbling the soft skin. I moaned against his neck, still kissing the tender skin, tracing the veins which stood out with delicate nibbles. A knock on the door brought us back to reality, and I jumped off Peeta's lap as fast as a bullet from a gun.

The knocking persisted. I straightened my shirt and smoothed my pants, while Peeta cleared his throat and re-arranged his shirt so it didn't expose the gleaming skin on his faint stomach muscles. The knocking grew louder, "hang on!" I yelled, running my hand through my hair as I made way to the door. As I opened the door, Haymitch pushed past me and stood before Peeta. "There are officials coming," he said shortly, a furious gleam in his eyes. "What?" I snapped, entering the room behind him. Haymitch sat down, exhaling his stress. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, rubbing the bridge of his nose. I sat beside Peeta on the arm of his chair, his hand sneakily winding around my waist, restraining me from shouting at Haymitch. "Haymitch, what the hell is going on, why are officials coming here?" I asked again, more stern. Haymitch looked up at me, "because of you, sweetheart. Your idea to re-build the district. The new governments been set up and my source tells me they want to be involved with everything- especially re-building Districts." He leaned back into the sofa, waiting for my reaction.

I shot a glance at Peeta, wondering what was so bad about that. "So? They can help fund the re-build then, can't they?" I said, relief washing over me. For a second back there, I thought that Haymitch was going to tell us that the new government wouldn't let us re-build districts our way. Haymitch stared at Peeta, and Peeta immediately wrapped both of his arms round me, caging me to him. Haymitch nodded and continued, "Katniss, one of the Officials coming is Gale," he said, averting his gaze to the grandfather clock by the fire. I stiffened immediately at my ex-best friend and love interests' name. "What?" I said, venom snaking into my tone. I tried to stand up, but Peeta kept hold on me. "Hell-fucking-no! How can he come back now? He turned his fucking back on us when we needed him! No, Haymitch, tell your source to let _him_ know that if he returns here, I will personally shoot him in the ass with my arrow! I won't have him back here, I won't allow it! He's hurt us to much!" I yelled. Peeta soothed me, "Shhh, okay, it's gonna be okay," I shook my head, "Didn't you listen to me before! I don't need any one like Gale! I don't want him here! Anywhere in this District!" my chest heaved as I finished ranting, and I shot a death glare at Haymitch.

A squealing noise came from the stove, as my stews began to over-boil. I stomped loudly towards it and turned the gas off, shoving the nearest pot. Its scorching juices from the stew overflowed and spilled, scalding my hand. I gave a small yelp. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and assumed it was Peeta, and turned to find Haymitch patting me like a small dog. "Look, I'm sorry, kid. I have no idea why he wants to come back now. This wasn't my idea," I nod, and suck the red skin on my hand, feeling the cooling sensation of my saliva ease the sting. "I'm sorry, Haymitch, I shouldn't of took it out on you." Haymitch laughed, "no problem, sweetheart. I gotta go, uh, I promised Isadora I'd have dinner with her and uh, her kids." Haymitch turned away, bright red. "Oh my god!" I laughed, looking at Peeta, who had now gotten up and joined Haymitch's side. Peeta laughed along, patting Haymitch on the back, "you finally got yourself a lady friend," he said heartily, giving me a wink. "Shut up, you asshole" Haymitch scoffed, "she's just a friend. She lost her husband when they bombed this place; he was a good man too. Great shoe maker. Such a shame," Haymitch trailed off, patting down his cotton shirt. "I'll be back soon," he smiled at me.

As he left, I collapsed in the sofa. "Oh my god, what was that about?" I giggled, as Peeta drew up a stool from beside the kitchen cabinet and sat opposite me. "Well, at least he's got someone," he said, shooting me a smile. My heart leapt, "and we have each other," I reminded him. The issue from before crept back in my mind, "I'm just so pissed about him though!" I began, my anger about Gales sudden desire for interference bubbling inside me again. "When I rang him, just over two or three months ago, he didn't want to know me. He didn't even let me finish talking to him. He was my best friend, and he turned his back on me, on this District! And now, why come? Yeah, we need some money to rebuild part of the District, and hell, we're gonna need some of the heavy machinery from the Capitol to tear down the fence, but why him? I just don't get it." I finished, glaring at the floor. Peeta wrapped his hands gently around mine, "I know, baby, I know. But I think there's a lot of unspoken...issues...between you two. Maybe it will do you good to finally talk to him?" I sulked, and finally nodded. I turned to Peeta and kissed his nose. "Okay, I'm gonna go take these stews around to the workmen and their families, you want to come?" I asked.

He nodded, as he heaved himself up off the stool and limped slightly towards the coat stand, taking his walking cane in one hand. I grabbed the big carrying basket on the side, and set to dividing the stews in containers, loading them in the basket. I took his hand in mine and we set off into the early spring evening, the sun particularly warm. The air smelled rich, the wild grass and honeysuckle around my house's perfuming the air. We walked down the lane, and crossed the empty Town Square. The floor was dusty, and now no bricks or building stood there, just a vast amount of space. "I think we should rebuild the Town Hall," I said in thought, glancing to where it once stood, "and we definitely need to rebuild the market." Peeta nodded in agreement, and led me to where the finished houses stood. Some of the families had moved in, like Greasy Sae's huge family. Her son Isaac and his wife Mariella, along with their three young children, had been the first to move into one of the finished houses. After that, his cousins Thea and Remy had moved their little brothers and sisters into the next house, taking sole responsibility of them because their parents had been killed in the bombings. Greasy Sae's family had dominated that whole area, and every night, when Peeta and I occasionally walked by, sweet aromas from the kitchens wafted, and loud laughter and music could be heard. It made me crave my own family to be here, as quiet and sweet as they were.

I missed my mother, a lot, when I thought of the families moving back. I knew she would never come back here. She'd lost too much. I still couldn't think about Prim without sobbing my heart out. Sometimes, when my mother rang the house, we'd just sit and talk about nonsense, until she began crying down the other line. I knew I'd always come off as a bitch when I'd spoken to my mother, but it's because I cared about her. When my father had died, and she slipped into that fragile state, I had took over her role. I felt I had to keep her in line after that, I couldn't handle her emotions. Now, when she cried, I would soothe her from my end of the line, and I often found a hard lump rose in my throat. I just wished I had my mother here with me, to hold me like she used to when I was younger.

We reached Greasy's house, and knocked on the door. Greasy opened up, and beamed her toothy grin at us, "come on in, you two lovebirds" me and Peeta exchanged humorous looks, and entered her house. The interior was so cosy, knitted rugs lay about in random places on the wooden floor, the white washed walls covered with her grandchildren's paintings. We went to the backroom, where the back door was open to what seemed like her whole family and all the workmen gathered round a bonfire. "Hey Katniss" I heard some of the girls call, as I smiled at the small community, "Peeta, come over here! We're talking about building some of the houses in the west part of town, we wanna know what you think!" shouted Wyatt, motioning him to go over. The atmosphere was so welcoming, and my heart welled at the warmth we were greeted with. I lay the containers of stew on the large wooden table which had been manoeuvred into the garden, and turned to Peeta. "Go" I smiled, kissing him gently on the lips. "I'll be back later," he said, making way to the men who all clutched cups of what smelt like fruity mulled wine and guffawed at each other's jokes around the fire. Smiling, I sat myself down with some of the wives, and was immediately asked for my opinion on the Officials coming to the District. Feeling included, I grinned, and turned to speak to the ladies. For now I felt content. For now, I felt wanted.


	5. Unwelcome Visitor

**Hey guys, so sorry I haven't posted this chapter for a while, I've had exams and then I went to the beautiful country Portugal for a few weeks and didn't have my laptop, so apologies! Thankyou for reading my story, I'm getting more confident with every chapter I write! I'm going to be working on a couple of Dramione one shots, so they should be up soon, thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter! ~Eli x **

It was a couple of weeks later when he arrived. That morning, we got a call. The look on Peeta's face when he was told Gale was coming over to "talk business" and my sudden anger attack. I broke one of my mother's best vases in the process.

We were lying in bed together, enjoying a lazy sleep-in. The duvet was slung around us, covering our bottom halves as our half naked torso's touched. I was half covered in my white vest top, which clung to my round breasts like the shirt was wet. I lay my head into the crook of his neck, an arm casually slung over his naked stomach as his muscular arm held me close, while we lay together and talked. Every now and then, Peeta would stop talking and stare at me, occasionally showering me with sweet lazy kisses. I smiled, enjoying being centre of his attention. For the past week, we had both been so busy, Peeta helped with construction work as much as he could, and I sat with the ladies, designing houses, the new market place, a playground for the children, and we talked of building a couple of schools, one for young children and another for older ones, instead of the school we had been used to where it was all children mixed from different ages. I also made the suggestion we pull down the fence around the Districts barriers soon. I hadn't hunted in so long, and the craving had kicked in these last few weeks.

The phone rang, but neither of us made any effort to get up to answer it. "Go get it," I whispered into his ear, kissing the lobe. "No, you go get it," he teased back, his finger trailing down my spine. I pretended to be snuggling to him, when I pushed him with all my strength in a playful manner. With a dull thud, he landed on the rug next to the bed. "Bitch," he shouted, as he made his way over to the dressing table where the phone rang. I giggled, sitting up and pulling the sheet around me. "Hello?" Peeta asked, smiling at me. Silence followed, and then a quiet murmur on the other line. His face fell, eyebrows knitting together and a frown played on his lips. "What do you mean he's here? He isn't due for another two and a half weeks!" I slipped out of bed, throwing one of Peeta's overlarge tops over my thin vest. Crossing over to Peeta, I slipped my arms around his, "Peeta, whats wrong?" He mouthed shush, and walked to the window, opening the curtains and letting the blazing sunlight pour in, blinding me. "Fine," he said defiantly, "I hope he got a place to stay, cause he isn't staying here." Hanging up, he slammed the phone down.

"Peeta?" I asked, unsure of his reaction. Peeta turned to me and leaned on the dresser. "Katniss," he moaned in exasperation. "What? Peeta, what is it?!" I demanded, sitting on the end of the double bed opposite him. Running a hand through his hair, he began. "Katniss," he said nervously, "um, that was Haymitch..." I nodded, encouraging him to go on. "He said, um, that...that Gale has arrived here. Early. He got the train down, and um, he's waiting to do _business_ with us. Um, he's gonna be here in twenty minutes." I stiffened completely. My heart began to race, and I felt my cheeks blaze with red hot fury, "well you know what? When he comes here, tell him to fuck off for me, kay? I'm not staying here!" I yelled. Scrambling out the bed, I angrily bounded across the room to the window and peered out, knocking a vase off the table beside my bed. Seeing nothing, I flung myself onto the end of the bed, my head in my hands while I tried to figure what to do, what I was going to say to Gale. Peeta tutted impatiently beside me. "C'mon Katniss! Were supposed to do this together! You think I wanna see him? Hell no!" Peeta retorted, shoving the stool at my dresser in frustration. Leaping up, I stalked to the wardrobe and pulled out my father's leather hunting jacket, shoving it on over my vest and pulling on a pair of black pants.

"Where are you going?" Peeta said, as he sank into the end of the bed. "Out." I replied curtly, my intentions to head to the woods and stay there all afternoon would remain a secret, even though I hadn't been there in what felt like years. "Katniss don't take this out on me, okay! Its not my fault!" I turned to look at Peeta. Of course he was right. He didn't ask Gale to come early, he knows he's unwelcome here. Of course it isn't Peeta's fault. "I know," I whisper, climbing onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around me, he nuzzled my hair, "I know this will be hard for you, given your history. But don't let him see you weak. Show him how happy you are here, without him-" and I know immediately Peeta is right. I can't let Gale see how broken I was, lost without him. He turned his back on me, once when I was so emotionally damaged from losing Prim, killing Coin, being treated like a criminal and sent back here all by myself, when I had no-one. Another time when I needed his help to help re-build our District. The home he grew up in. I need to show him that I am stronger now, with Peeta by my side. That I have been accepted by our small community, and together we are rebuilding our town, all without his help. I need to show him we don't need him. I shrugged my father's jacket off, my plans to finally return to the woods shunned aside for another day. "Your right," I said, standing up and taking his hand. Peeta looked down at me, grinning, "I'm always right," he said, and gave me a cheeky wink. I leant up on my toes and kissed him on his cheek, "not always," I whisper by his ear. Laughing, I head to the bathroom to get ready. Showering and braiding my hair, I selected a crisp white short sleeved shirt and tight black pants, which made looked very businesslike. Gale would need to know that I wasn't interested in a social visit; it was pure business what we were going to be talking about. Downstairs, Peeta had laid out the blue-prints of the basic houses the team was building currently, the charts of the costs of materials, which wasn't too much. We would need more to build the rest of the houses. Peeta sat at the head of the table, concentrating on the latest spreadsheet.

"You okay?" I asked, slipping into the seat next to him. Looking up, he gazed at me confused, "of course I am? Why?" I gazed back, and sighed. "I don't know. I know you weren't always keen on Gale. And things are bound to be awkward now-" Peeta held his hand up to silence me, "Katniss," he said softly, "my main concern is you. I know you're the nervous one here, I'm just curious on how this meeting will pan out." The sharp knock on the door cuts off Peeta's speech. "Well," I said, slightly breathless, "I think we're about to find out." Shaking slightly, I stood up and walked to the kitchen door. Taking a deep breath, I opended the door, bracing myself for the hurricane about to disrupt my calm new found routine with Peeta. Standing before me, dressed in a dark charcoal suit and crisp light grey shirt which clung to his arm muscles, Gale stood before me. In the short months we'd been apart, he looked like he'd aged a couple of years. His usual carelessly messy dark hair trimmed shorter, the fringe neatly flopping over his eyes, his icy grey eyes tight and not showing any emotion. Standing tall, I remember now how attractive he was. _Is. _But forgetting that, I stand back to let him in. "Katniss," he said, his voice strained, as if some unspoken emotion lies in there. "Gale," I give him a short curt nod. Leading him to the dining room table, I took my seat next to Peeta. Gale took in our closeness, and nodded at Peeta. "Sorry I'm here early, just thought..." the sentence hung in mid-air, unfinished.

He cleared his throat as he set down his briefcase; sitting on Peeta's other side. As he pulled in his chair, his foot brushed my leg and I immediately stiffen at the contact. "So, you've been in contact with the government for building materials and machinery?" Gale questions. "Yeah, we've pretty much covered the costs and materials on the houses that have already been build," Peeta began, looking at me. "But we're running low. We need materials and to rebuild the shops and whatnot, we're gonna need machines," I said, averting my gaze to the wall behind Gale. His brow furrowed, "do you have proper builders?" Locking my eyes with his, I answer, "no. You see, people who _wanted-" _ I emphasise, " to rebuild this District have all pitched in. Greasy Sae's whole family, Delly Cartwright and her brother came back, Leevy and her family, you know, people who cared about this town." The tension in the room suddenly grew much tighter, and the rage in Gales dark eyes began to flicker like flames. "Is that what this is about?" he smirked, as he leant forward with hostility. "Yes," I breathed, leaning towards him with equal distaste. "Katniss," Peeta warned, his voice strained.

Taking in his awkward expression, I leant back into my chair in defeat. Gale laughed coldly, "what, your boyfriend says no and you back down so fast? That's not the Katniss I know," he said. "Oh yeah? Well the Gale I know wouldn't of turned his back on his best friend-" "Thats because you put me in that position!" Gale yells back, standing up and pushing his chair back with force. "How did I Gale? Tell me, did I once tell you not to come back and see me after you gave me the arrow to kill Snow? I needed you, and you just left me!" I said heatedly, rising from my own chair. "Stop!" Peeta shouts. The silence stretched after him, both me and Gale stood staring at him in disbelief. "Just...stop." I moved towards him but he shook off my touch, "I'll leave you too it." And with that, he stalked out of the back door, slamming the kitchen door behind him. "Aw great, now look what you've done!" I snapped, walking to the back door after Peeta. But he'd gone. He'd probably headed to Haymitch's to avoid the tense conversation between me and my ex-best friend. Sighing, I turned back to Gale, who stood still, waiting for me to flip in rage. "I can't do this. I can't keep yelling at you, it hurts." Gale nodded in agreement. "If we're gonna work together, we have to find away to be able to communicate with each other without hurting one another," I finish, as I stared him down. Gale watched me, absorbing my speech with wide eyes. Breathing deeply I prepared myself for the barrage of emotions inside of me which threatened to burst out at any moment. I wanted to just sit down and cry, let out the demons haunting my nightmares to Gale, because I know he'd understand. He shared some of those conflicting emotions: guilt and heartbreak for Prims premature death, rage at the Capitol for creating the creatures and Pods which took Finnick, Boggs, and all the soldiers who came with us on our mission, sorrow for the death of our friendship. But alot of my emotions are directed at him, the hurt and disappointment of how he turned his back on me for the past few excruciating months, anger at how little I must mean to him and despair and guilt, because a small part of me knows that it's also my fault for letting him slip away. I chose Peeta, and not him, which must of hurt him so much. What a selfish creature I am.

"Katniss," he said softly, moving towards me with an outstretched hand. I flinched, not knowing what to expect from him when he gently lay his hand on my shoulder. "I've screwed up so much," he said, looking into my own dark eyes, "but I know you wouldn't ever think of me the same after Prim's death. I just want you to know I'm sorry. And although I was never here for you, I never stopped thinking about you," he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and continued, "I won't stop thinking about you." Shaking my shoulder free of his grip, I backed a few paces. I wasn't ready for Gale to get intimate again, I couldn't allow it. I had Peeta now. I knew mine and Gales relationship had to be strictly professional, because I still hurt too much. "Let's just stop fighting," I mutter and turn my back on him to fumble with the dishes. Just at that moment, a sulky Peeta walked through the back door, "quit fighting like a pair of kids then, have you?" he muttered moodily. As Gale excused himself to the bathroom, I reached over to Peeta and took his hand. "I'm sorry I showed you up," I said, squeezing his hand. Rolling his eyes, Peeta leant forward and kissed my cheek, "I was just annoyed you two were fighting. There's still a lot of...tension between you both. I hope you sort it out," he said, his eyes exploring mine. "Me too," I whispered back, I just don't know about it happening so soon."

I'm panting, running through the tunnels under the Capitol as I try to find my way to Snow's mansion on my own. Everywhere I hear screams, from different individuals. Prim's is the most haunting, a high pitch scream mingled with agonized wails. I turn down another tunnel, when Finnick's yells protrude my hearing. He seems so close, yet I can't see him. "Finnick!" I shout, looking frantically for him. Next comes Rue's, her cries running through me like a knife. I run into a wall, smacking my head and falling backwards into a pool of what looks like deep crimson blood. But I don't smell blood, but the strong scent is so familiar. The rose Snow sent me. And that's when the Mutts come for me. The human lizards, their white bodies slithering along the floor towards me. They tear at a hunk of meat, which I realise is Finnick's decapitated body, and I wake up screaming for help.

"Katniss, Katniss!" I heard Peeta yell, ripping the covers away from my heaving body. I was drenched in sweat, and I turned away from Peeta and leant over the side of the bed where I vomited. Tears escaped me, as I gasped for air. "It was...F-Finnick. I-I saw it.." I managed to stutter out. Peeta gently tugged the covers off me while I sobbed, "I-I didn't do any-hic-thing, I j-just stood there! It's m-my fault...all mine." I felt myself being pulled into Peeta's lap as his arms protectively encircled me. "Sh sh baby, its okay," he soothed, as I leant my head into the crook of his neck and sobbed quietly, "it was just a nightmare, just a nightmare. You don't need to be scared anymore." I clung onto him, as he slipped one arm under my legs and one around my body, as he cradle carried me to the bathroom. Running a bath, he slipped my sweaty vest and pyjama pants off, and lowered me into the tub. The soft warm water lapped my naked breasts as I slumped back in exhausted defeat. He took a washing cloth and lathered some soap on it, and began to clean me up, wiping my mouth for me. When I was cleaned, he swathed me in the biggest, fluffiest towel and handed me a glass of water. After I was done, he pulled me close to him. "Thank you," I whispered, as he nuzzled my head. "For what? We all have nightmares, Katniss. I have one nearly every night or so. But I'm sleeping with you, and I know I'm safe." The words filled my heart with such unexpected warmth. I leant up and kissed him softly at the edge of his mouth. Retrieving a clean vest and pyjama shorts from my wardrobe, I crawled back into bed and snuggled up to Peeta, his warmth enveloping me. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what," he whispered, kissing the top of my hair as I slung an arm over his stomach. "I know," I whispered back, "I'll always be here for you too." After that, I fell back to a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, we headed to the square where Gale had assembled some workers from the Capitol to reconstruct the shops which once stood there. Gale bounded towards us, clipboard in one hand and a hammer in the other, his dark navy suit a stark contrast to the demolished site with dusty foundations behind him. "Peeta," he said in greeting, "just the man I've been looking for! We're re-building the shops, but I wanted to know if you wanted the bakery re-built?" Peeta tensed beside me, and I realised how it must be painful for him to remember the bakery, where he grew up and learnt his passion for baking bread. "Ugh, I'll think about it," he said quietly, and walked away to speak to another group of builders. "It's hard for him," I explained to Gale, "when are you taking down the District fence?" Gale checked his clipboard, "um, some day next week I think. Will you come? It will be symbolic to us all," I noticed the blush rising in Gales cheeks, and I nodded with consent, "of course I'll come." After parting ways, I found Peeta and we walked home, "I'm gonna ring my mother when we get home," I told him, as we strolled back arm in arm. "Why?" he said, bending down and plucking a lilac flower from a nearby tree and handing it to me. "Because I feel like we haven't had a chance to talk things over. I want her to come back here, she's all that's left in my family." Peeta stops, and whirls me around so I'm facing him. "Katniss?" he said, a flicker of hurt registering on his face, "I thought we were each other's family now?" I realised how I must of sounded, like I was complaining about being alone. But I know I'm not, because even if my mother is in another District setting up a hospital, I'm still able to talk to her, on the phone, even if it's not often. And Gales back home, and I suppose he will always be, in an awkward way, some part of my family. And then there's Greasy Sae who took care of me those whole months. And Peeta has nobody, except me. "Oh Peeta!" I sighed, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. "I didn't mean it like that. Of course we're each other's family, I lo-"but I stopped myself. Because I know if I told him I loved him, I'd lose it. In all honesty, I wasn't ready to admit I loved him; I was still hurting from my losses. But Peeta caught on, and gently releases my arms. "I know. I love you too." And with that, the slight spat is forgotten, and he kisses me lightly on the lips.


	6. Friction

I was in a deep sleep, dreaming about when Rue died and I sang to her, when I was woken by an agonizing shriek. I shot up, and whirled my head around, finding nothing in the pitch black room. I felt for Peeta's warm body beside me, but the sheets had been thrown away from the empty space. "Peeta?" I whispered, scared. A soft cry escaped a shadow of a figure curled by the window, the curtains ripped from there hangings. The figure twitched again. I got up slowly, and crouched beside Peeta. "Peeta?" I asked again, attentively. I could barely make out his features in the light of the pale moon, but as he turned his head eerily slow towards me, his eyes wild with fire and his mouth set in a half grimace half smile. A sharp gasp escaped my lips when he launched himself at me, his strong hands reaching for my throat, "NO PEETA!" I shouted, before his left arm raised and came down as a blow to my face. I cried in pain, as Peeta straddled me, gripping my arms behind my head, "you make me sick, you fucking little bitch!" he spat at me, his hot breath tickling uncomfortably on my face. "Peeta, please," I whimpered, struggling in his iron hold. "Its...your...fucking...fault." He enunciated each word, the venom tangible in his voice. "You're the fucking reason they're all dead! Everyone from District 12 is dead because of you and your bastard rebellion!" He brought his good knee up to press hard into my stomach, and I groaned at the pressure, "no Peeta," I tried to cry, but my breath was hard and heavy. "My fucking family," he said, bringing his face to me, "all because you defied the fucking Capitol, you selfish bitch!"

And in an instant, another emotion flickered across his face. He began to shudder on top of me, as his good side fought control. His dark eyes were flickering from black rage to innocent blue, and he loosened his grasp from my arms. I freed my arms and placed both my hands on the side of his shuddering face, his features contorting with pain and rage. "Peeta," I whispered, "remember who you are. It isn't real, the memory." At my words, his breathing became rapid and he fell limply to my side, half of his body pinning me down as he lay in defeat. We lay for a few minutes, waiting for our breathing to return to normal, when Peeta finally spoke. "Katniss..." he croaked. "I am...so sorry. I-I'm sorry, I'm-I-" he broke off into heavy sobs, curling away from me in disgust at his behaviour. "Peeta no," I said, trying to touch his arm, but he shook it off, "Peeta, it was the tracker jacker venom, I know you didn't mean-" Peeta abruptly sat up, "No Katniss...don't you see? I'm a _monster-"_ I kneeled up beside him, trying to soothe him, "please Peeta, don't do this." I got up and offered him my hand, but he stood up and looked down at me with sadness. I led him to sit on the bed, and turned to get him a glass of water, before he caught my waist. I winced as his hand lightly brushed my stomach over my vest. Sensing my vulnerability, he raised the vest to reveal a large red bruise already forming from when he kneed me. Peeta reeled back, appalled by my casualty, and grabbed both my wrists, the red marks on my arms and hands large and sore.

Cautiously, he bent his head to kiss each of my wrists, his damp smooth lips light on the sore marks. I closed my eyes at the sweet gesture and smiled. He then lifted my vest, so that they covered my breasts and revealed my flat stomach. Peeta looked up in question, and I nodded with consent. Slowly he began to trail kisses, starting from my bellybutton and up to my developing bruise. I shuddered with pleasure, and he pulled me down onto the bed, so I lay on top of him, our legs entwined. I sighed, and he flipped me onto my back, so he was on top of me. He kissed my ear lobe, gently nibbling the top teasingly. He moved to my neck, and I slid my fingers into his hair, "Peeta," I half moaned, his kisses continuing down my chest. He reached my stomach when he suddenly tensed, and touched the waistband of my pyjama pants cautiously. "Yes," I whispered, and he continued, sliding the pants down and kissing the bottom of my belly. When he came to my panties waist band, he lightly traced patterns with his tounge, and then quickly slipped off my panties.

I shuddered lightly, as he teased me, a thousand thoughts running through my mind. Was I ready to let myself be open to _this? _I hadn't really thought about our relationship taking the physical turn so soon. I can't deny I haven't thought about this sort of stuff, especially between the two Games me and Peeta competed in. But somehow every time I thought of me and Peeta doing this stuff, his face always morphed magically into Gales... I needed to stop it! Gale wasn't a part of my life now. Peeta is. I sighed inwardly. Another sensation trembled me, making my stomach feel like it was light and full of fluttering butterflies and the feel of Peeta's tongue on me, it felt good. I shook my head of these deep thoughts and let the wonderful sensations envelope me in pleasured moans.

When Peeta finished, he got up and rubbed his knees, and crawled onto bed beside me, while I lay shuddering and panting, my breathing having not returning to normal yet. "So," he said, a wicked gleam in his eye, "did you like that?" I tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a gasp. Peeta chuckled and gave me a sly wink, "I'll take that as a yes." I gave him a sardonic look, and he leant forward and kissed me lightly on the nose. When my breathing had slowed from panting, I turned to him, "that was...wow" was all I could manage. "You can't imagine how long I've waited for to be able to...touch you, like that," Peeta said quietly. I shifted so I lay on my side facing him. "It was pretty amazing," I admitted, "how did you know what to do?" Peeta looked at me, confused. I blushed, "I mean, have you ever...you know? Done, um, things, with other girls?" I finished embarrassed. He looked thoughtful for a while, before meeting my eyes. "One girl," he mumbled. The shock must of shown on my face, as he rushed to explain, " her mother was a childhood friend of my mothers, we got thrown together alot of the time when our mothers met up, and one day we just kind of...kissed." My face gave nothing away as I processed this information, "go on," I urged. He swallowed, looking uncomfortable and sat up, "well, naturally one thing led to another, and we ended up doing...stuff." I shook my head, "stuff? Did you guys have..." I trailed off, and Peeta shook his head vehemently.

"No Katniss, never! I promise you, it was literally a one time thing. She'd just come round to wish me a happy birthday and..." Peeta faltered at my face. "What?" he asked nervously. I looked up, a half grimace on my face. "How old were you?" I asked weakly. "Sixteen," he said. I nodded slowly. "Your birthday is two months before the Hunger Games reaping," I spoke quietly. He nodded, "I didn't like her like that... I never thought of her like that. She was just a friend." I flashed across the room, keeping my back to him. "Friends don't do things like that," I said coldly, "you were friends with Delly Cartwright...but you didn't fuck her!" my voice and temper began to rise. Peeta shot back, "I didn't fuck her! And no, but I guess I wanted to try these things!" I blanched and turned around, "I thought you liked me before we even really met?! Or were those just words?!" Peeta gave a cold laugh, "oh Katniss don't be stupid! Of course I liked you then, I loved you since I was a kid! But you'd never even looked at me before the Games, and she was there..." I ran my hand through my hair, "yeah, well, where I come from, our morals are a little higher" I snapped icily. "And what do you mean by that?!" he retorted, "I mean that stuff like...sex stuff...is important! You do things like that when you love them!" I half shouted. Peeta stepped back, "oh Katniss, don't try the whole morals things on me, you can't kid the fact you and Gale probably fucke-" I crossed the room in one stride and slapped him across the face.

Peeta jerked his head back, shock apparent on his face. " .You" I breathed, "how FUCKING dare you! Me and Gale- we- we never! Never ever! Because I'm not some slut that would do those things!" I was shaking from anger. Peeta began to retort, but before he could I stormed from the room, and ran down the stairs. As I came to the kitchen I fixed my pyjama pants and top and checked the time. Five thirty in the morning. I stared in the space when a pair of walking boots caught my eye. I needed to get out of this house, this town. Without another thought, I pulled on a thick pair of Peeta's trousers and jumper, donned my fathers leather jacket and shoved my feet into the boots. Walking out into the dark morning, the cold air whipped my face, and I picked up the bow and sheath of arrows I had left a long time ago outside in the shed. I was ready to go. I half ran to the District Fence, and above the roaring early morning wind, I thought I heard Peeta calling me. But the furious irritation which still pulsed through me after our argument kept me from returning back home, and I carried on running. When I got to the fence, I wriggled under a small gap and made for the forest. Dawn was approaching now, the moon had disappeared and the dark blue ebbed away to light purple. I must of walked for what felt like an hour before I came to my regular spot. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed the forest.

The smell of wet soil was a pleasant change to the dusty motes which had hung around the town while the re-construction was taking place. I felt free out here. Eventually I reached a clearing, the wildlife creeping out of their sleep and coming into the day. I heard the birds, mockingjays and blackbirds' calling to each other, the mockingjays melodic chirp was soft. I whistled a tune to them, and when they returned it to me in perfect harmony to each other I chuckled. The squirrels scurried from their homes in the tall tree branches, and descended to ground level to search for food. Out in the peace and quiet of my beloved woods, I could clear my head. I knew I couldn't stay here forever, but for now, it was perfect. For now, I would stay in my heaven.


End file.
